


Humans

by galacticLEI



Category: Markiplier RPF, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Closeted Cannibal, Gen, Gore, One Shot, Unless More Wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 07:52:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13026576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticLEI/pseuds/galacticLEI
Summary: Bim Trimmer could be considered the most ‘human’ of the Alters, something he took in his stride. Sure, no one was perfect, but that’s what made him human. The Alters themselves were mostly human, often hiding darker tones to their personalities. Eccentrics and outcasts, if you will. And, out of all of them, Bim quickly was deemed to be the normal, most human one. It made it easy to hide and forget when that term was so loosely thrown around.  How would anyone realise how misinformed or wrong they were? Bim liked to pretend that it was true, that he was normal. That he was a good person.But he hadn’t wanted to say anything, because then they all would’ve stopped talking to him altogether, when they all realised what a sick, twisted freak he really was.The issue with that is, if you keep secrets for a long time, they have to come out eventually, and it’s never fun when they do.





	Humans

Bim Trimmer could be considered the most ‘human’ of the Alters, something he took in his stride. Sure, no one was perfect, but that’s what made him human. Maybe he’s awkward or shy; perhaps a little sensitive. He’d dealt with things in the past, love where the feelings weren’t shared, and it impacted him. He was constantly in company of the unusual or crazed, continuously berated by the manipulative desires of the oppressive figure that ruled over them. It was tiring, terrifying and a never-ending assault on his character. He often threw himself into his confident stage persona to handle it all. He reacted. He was human. Normal.  


Not to say the others couldn’t be like that, Dr Iplier could be, although his twisted mix between wishing to help his patients and having an unusual fascination with the cause of injury itself was quite disturbing. The doctor frequently switched between being the best to rant to and one of the most apathetic Alters there, although Bim would be too scared to say that to their face, they’d be horrified. Silver Shepherd was human, technically speaking, although his insistence that his human alter ego is separate from him was disconcerting. At this point it wasn’t a disguise or a cover up, he genuinely believed it, and everyone had taken to not saying anything. Ed Edgar is definitely human, and the worst of humanity too. Completely apathetic and money obsessed to the point no one wished to deal with him. Not to mention he also tries to sell children, even his own son. The Host is also human, as much as that prospect was incredibly unsettling to Bim, that a human could live that way. It was hard to put them on the spectrum of humane, after how much they’d changed themselves, as well as how they were seemingly out of it nowadays with their narrations and predictions. More human than the Author had been though, calmer, telling people of the future with their radio show, now aware at their lack of control over people’s lives. Still very scary and unnatural in Bim’s eyes, although he didn’t wish to judge. Then, well, Google didn’t count in the humanity debate. Wilford was human, if a little… lost. And Dark? Bim didn’t know what Dark was.  


The list goes on and on, it was easy to get side-tracked. But the point stood clear, in Bim’s eyes. The Alters were mostly human, often hiding darker tones to their personalities. Eccentrics and outcasts, if you will. And, out of all of them, Bim quickly was deemed to be the normal, most human one. It made it easy to hide and forget when that term was so loosely thrown around. That he was ‘cute’ or a ‘cinnamon roll’ or even ‘too innocent’. How would anyone realise how misinformed or wrong they were? Bim liked to pretend that it was true. But deep down he knew he was just as bad as the others, secrets hidden away through lock and key, influencing on his worry and anxiety in conversation. Worry and anxiety when interacting in close quarters with other human beings. It was easily played off as normal, it was a known fact that some people were introverts, even if they didn’t always appear so. But that was the thing, Bim was most definitely an extrovert. A closeted extrovert, but an extrovert all the same. No, when the others figured out what was wrong with Bim, his actions may’ve been more justified in quite the unexpected way. When they realised what a sick, twisted freak he really was. But he hadn’t wanted to say anything, because then they all would’ve stopped talking to him altogether.  


The issue with that is, if you keep secrets for a long time, they have to come out eventually, and it’s never fun when they do.

Bim woke up a little later than usual that day. Normally, he was one to awaken quite promptly, always one for being on time. But it had been a day off from meetings and such, and he’d stayed up late the previous night, so Bim felt it was justified. Although the realisation it was later than expected still sent a jolt of anxiety through him, immediately wiping the sleepy haze that had previously held him in bed. Hastily, Bim went about his morning routine, hair slicked back, suit on, tie perfected. Sure, it was his day off, but he was likely to be called on to do something or other, that’s how things worked. The Alter’s seemed to have little idea of what a break was. The manor was constantly bustling, everyone always seemingly tasked with something. Glasses slipped on, he glanced one final time at his reflection before making his way out of his room. He was famished his first thought to wander down to the kitchen to dig himself up something for breakfast. Or would it be brunch? Bim pondered the question, curious as to whether there was a specific time for it to be considered brunch, or if brunch was actually a thing at all. He was at ease, and he strolled down the hall and a flight of stairs, humming absentmindedly to himself. He only paused in his tracks when a whiff of something caught his nose, undistinguishable in his mind as anything he could grasp. It seemed familiar, almost luring.  


With his curiosity piqued and an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, Bim branched off from the direction to the kitchen. It wasn’t difficult to find where the smell had to be coming from, practically clogging his senses. One empty hallway had a door swung wide open, one Bim recognised to belong to one of the main studios. Of course, the door was usually locked for soundproofing, and seeing it wide open like this with no one nearby to reason for it was unusual. The smell was stronger here, drawing him closer. How come no one else had come? The smell was quite overpowering, surely someone must have noticed it. It wasn’t necessary a bad smell, something about it seemed quite alluring if Bim was honest with himself, and he racked his brain for something to relate it too. He searched the empty hall once again, ears perked for any sound of movement, although no one came. As he considered it, Bim realised it made sense. At this current moment, no one had any particular need to be here, Wilford was one of the main few who saw any benefit from the studio spaces to begin with, besides Bim himself. There was a high chance Wilford had been in there last, and was perhaps even the culprit behind the smell to begin with. He had been working on one of his journalism things, Bim presumed, if you could call it that. Wilford was an interesting person, one Bim generally would rather avoid if it weren't for their clashing careers. If he didn’t stand off against the journalist, he might lose time for his career as a gameshow host. But that was irrelevant, all that confirmed was that there was a high chance Wilford had caused the smell. Bim shrugged to himself, he supposed he should be the one to investigate, he was the other Alter who used the studio after all. He crept closer, examining the scene. Wilford was usually surprisingly adept at remembering to close the doors here, despite his flippant nature, as it directly impacted his work. Bim could only presume he’d rushed out in a hurry, and would be back soon, and that now Bim would have to fix up whatever mess had been left behind. He sighed, his stomach growling. So much for going to get breakfast. Bim froze up, it suddenly clicking in his mind. That was what the smell reminded him of, it had to be food of some kind. He attempted to jog his memory at the revelation, trying to place exactly what it reminded him of, but it was pointless. The déjà vu was really getting to him now, and Bim poked his head through the doorway.  


Oh.  


Bim stepped into the room, eyes darting across the scene. A small stage area had been set up, a camera pointed to the two chairs. Another interview, a man Bim didn’t recognise strewn across the floor before his chair. Dead. Another victim of Wilford’s play pretend journalist act. Bim takes a stunned step closer. One could consider his quiet reaction, eyes wide and staring infatuated, to be unusual. No sound, no gagging, no attempt to get help. But this wasn’t the first dead man Bim had seen. The shock could be taken out of it when it’s an almost expected occurrence for Will to leave behind a dead victim. Blood pooling across the floor from a bullet wound to the front. Bim could feel pity for whatever the unsuspecting young man had done to lead to such a sudden demise. Silent shock, considering his circumstance, was a justified reaction. Except it wasn’t. Outwardly, it appeared his surprise could be due to the killing itself, but that wasn’t the case at all.  
Bim gulped as the smell hit him. The smell of a corpse, freshly killed. A human’s corpse. The smell, one forgotten, sent him into jitters, his mind erratic. Ecstasy, that’s what it was. He wasn’t revolted, or disturbed. So long since he had let himself be in such a position. Alone with a dead body, its lifeless eyes waiting for him. He took a step closer. It was fresh, so very fresh. Still limp, still tender, maybe even still a little warm! His heart hammered at the thought. Bim forced himself to pause. He couldn’t do this. He’d stopped doing this. Hidden this urge away. What if the others saw? But God! He panted slightly, almost animalistic, as his mouth began to water. It had been so long since he’d subjected himself to a delectable treat such as this. His hands started their nervous mannerisms, shaky, straightening his suit and tie, adjusting his glasses, clasping together. He repeated these manoeuvres over and over, but he couldn’t stop himself taking a few steps closer. He needed this so badly. Just a taster even. It was such a tease for him, leaving a body such as this here. Such an inner war. Normal foods could never compare to the first time he’d tasted human flesh. The memory of it sent a shy grin to his face. Oh, the feeling of it. It had sent such euphoria through his body that he’d longed for the longest time to feel it again. He licked his lips, before wincing, the corpse now at his feet. This was sick. Absolutely sick. He knew it was. He knew this wasn’t normal. Wasn’t human. He knew everyone would be disgusted. But how could he not treat himself to what he’d desired all along? The guilty pleasure he’d kept away the longest time…  


Bim knelt down, hands grasping the body and flipping it over onto its back. So fresh they almost looked alive, apart from the blood that covered their front and their unfocused gaze. Bim let his fingers brush against the warm, sticky fluid. His heart fluttered. Just a little taste. A breakfast snack. No one had to know. He ran his tongue across his bloodied fingers, sighing as the metallic tang reached his tongue. He gazed down at the body before him, his rational thinking slowly fading away. A jacket covered the dead man’s arms. A wondrous meal, wrapped up, just for him. The challenge of shaking them from their jacket would make it all the more worth it. He set to work. Bim hummed contentedly as he viewed his meal over. There was a good amount of muscle and fat on their bones, should make for excellent taste. Although, it had been so long, he had almost forgotten his preferences for these things. He hovered over the corpse like some animal, positioning both his hands on the arm, either side of his mouth and he bent down for a bite. The skin offered more resistance than he’d expected, even dead, without any cutlery on such a fresh specimen he needed to use some force. He pinned the arm to the ground to stop it moving, teeth gripping against soft flesh. Once his jaws where sufficiently clamped against the arm, he jerked back, feeling the flesh tear and give way, resistance gone. Bloodied hands assisted in shoving the meat into his mouth, groaning at the high he was given as his teeth ground against the flesh, blood pooling in his mouth. It was indescribable. Incomparable to anything. No meat he’d ever tasted would ever be as good as this. He bent back down, licking the wound over, gnawing at the flesh and bone. This wasn’t enough. Not enough. These arms were scrawny compared to the rest of the body before him. He pulled away wildly, blood dripping down his chin, staining his white shirt. He needed more. More.  


Bim stood, gazing around the room in a frenzied haze. He took to snapping apart recording equipment until something sharp enough found its way into his hands. One snapped microphone later and he found his indistinguishable metal stake. With enough force, he’d break through his meals chest, or maybe their stomach. That’s when he’d get to the good bit. What he hungered so desperately for. He rushed back to his victim, ripping their shirt aside. How dare it cover up such a delicious delicacy like this? He gripped his weapon in his hands, driving it down over and over, revelling at how the body snapped and shredded beneath him. Oh, this was going to be glorious. How had he kept himself from this? Kept himself from human flesh so long? He threw his stake aside with a clatter, fingers wriggling into the open wounds, pulling them further open with a satisfying tear. His finger found the bullet, and he tossed it aside. Couldn’t have it ruining his feast. He dove in, licking away the pools of blood before chewing and ripping and the skin. He gulped it down with a crazed groan. Licked his teeth clean of that metallic red gold before diving into his meal again, hands gripping anything they could find and guiding it to his desperately gaping jaws. He loved finding a stray vein, still full. Like a noodle, or a straw, that burst with that delectable blood. He feasted on them like a child would candy, it was just as sweet to his taste buds as they worked in pleasured overdrive. Blood under his nails, all over his hands, it stained the cuffs of his sleeves, flicked all over his prized suit and pants. Sure, the meal was messy, but God, it was worth it. So very worth it.  


Bim was too enthralled in his meal to hear any commotion at the door. He still feasted as the door creaked shut behind him moments later, footsteps approaching. Only when his mind processed the ringing along with the start of a cold voice did he freeze, head jerking away from where he gnawed at the bloodied flesh of a mangled young man.  


“Well then, Mr Trimmer. What a turn of events. A closeted cannibal, it really isn’t all just sunshine and rainbows for you then. I hoped I’d eventually discover your dirty little secret.” The voice echoed through his ears, and broke through Bim’s whirling thoughts. He gazed down at the corpse, processing its meaning, and gagged. It shouldn’t be this delicious. Couldn’t be. How had he let himself do this again? He’d even left the door wide open. “Unsure of what to say? Suppose I can’t blame you. You caused quite a fuss outside when they saw you, I was the only one to step up and come inside. Don’t worry, I’m not afraid.” Bim chokes a little. It was Dark. Dark. Of all the fucking people…  


Bim leapt to his feet, taking staggered steps away from them. His eyes widened at the blood that had been splattered across the room, the destruction he’d caused amongst the equipment. All that he’d processed had been the unending bliss. The door was closed now. The room was sound-proofed. He was trapped in here with Dark, and a chill ran down his spine at the realisation. He could barely see Dark through the blood that stained his glasses, but he could make out their expression. They almost appeared sickeningly amused, hands clasped behind their back as they regarded to gameshow host. Their tone bordering on victorious. “Why didn’t you tell me, Mr Trimmer? I could’ve certainly arranged for your, special dietary requirements, hmm? There are many dead bodies disposed of that could’ve been recycled for you.” If Bim didn’t know Dark at all, the notion could’ve been somewhat caring. Instead, it made Bim’s blood run cold at the idea that Dark would do that. Made him wonder what this information meant to them. Bim shook his head hastily, managing out a stammered phrase.  


“I don’t- I don’t w-want to eat- eat people…” His voice is small, practically inaudible, but Dark clearly picked up on it. They tutted, shaking their head slightly. Wrong answer.  


“Oh, my apologies. One could easily assume otherwise, with the show you put on for us moments ago.” Bim let out a strangled noise, “If you really enjoy something that much, why bother to fight it? Everyone here is twisted, you’d finally fit right in, I’m sure no one would even mind. Except, that’s just the thing, isn’t it? You want to be the exception, don’t you Mr Trimmer? You enjoyed being the good, pure, loved one, didn’t you? The perfect one, with no twisted, grotesque faults. For once in your life you wanted to be considered normal…”  


“Sh-Shut up!” Bim snapped out, before clamping his bloodied hands over his mouth. When Dark doesn’t respond to his sudden outburst, seemingly expecting more, Bim lets himself quietly continue. “I- I don’t w-want to eat people because it-it’s wrong.” He reassured himself desperately, and Dark barks out a dry laugh.  


“Oh, what’s the point in lying to yourself like that? Why would something wrong feel so unfathomably right, hmm? No one here would see it anywhere near as wrong as the public would. The fans. But that’s all you care about. Your image. Being the good one. It isn’t about right and wrong, really. It’s about hiding your true self for your own desperate, selfish desire to be loved.” Subconsciously, Bim was aware of what was happening. He was in a position of weakness. Filled with fear, guilt and shame. And Dark was using that, studying him, using him. But this realisation didn’t make it any less effective. It didn’t make the words any less true. Dark was presumably about to continue when the door creaked open, the sudden sound of the end of a loud argument cascading into the room.  


“I don’t care! His health is more important!” Finished an angered doctor as he pushed his way into the room. He’s still clearly angry even as he attempted to regard Dark professionally, his posture tense. “Sir, I feel whatever you are saying needs to be dealt with later. After an ordeal such as this, I need to run a health assessment on Mr Trimmer, or he may keel over before you get the chance to finish.” Dark regarded them coldly.  


“I thought I told you all to wait outside.”  


“Sir, I digress, raw cannibalism such as this leads to a chance of disease. Specifically, the possibility of a prion disease, which, well…” Dr Iplier almost looked distressed, now that Bim sees them closer, and he felt a pit settle into his stomach. If the doctor wasn’t willing to share a diagnosis like usual it had to be bad. “I feel it’s best if I can do my job and assess their condition. Can’t this come later?” He rationalised. Dark was silent for a long moment, before waving them off.  


“Fine, doctor. I expect him back in one piece.” With a final glance at Bim, Dark turned on his heel and left the room, the Alters crowded outside the door, quickly scampering aside. Dr Iplier watched them leave, before making his way over to a shocked Bim, guiding him around the body and out the room.  


“Can someone have a Google clean that up? Perhaps keep the body in cold storage for now. I might need to examine it, or…” He glanced at Bim, who averted his gaze. Dr Iplier pried him away from the shocked and morbidly curious stares of the other gathered Alter’s, the second they were out of earshot he started quick questionings. “Alright, I have to be honest. A prion disease is a known possibility from cannibalism, and is not only fatal, but untreatable. While I have doubts it’s the case, I still need to question you regardless.” Bim squeaked out a slight response, nodding with wide eyes. “Just, you didn’t eat anything like the spine or the brain, correct? I didn’t have time to examine the body.” Bim gagged at the sudden questions to his earlier feast, shaking his head hastily.  


“N-No.”  


“Good. That’s good. I don’t need you freaking out, alright? I don’t think you have a prion disease, something tells me I’d know. But they are hard to diagnose, and I’ll have to monitor your condition for an irritatingly long time.” Bim nodded along uncommittedly, still sickened, and Dr Iplier sighed as he led them into the clinic. He offered Bim a seat at a bed, glancing him over. “Give me your glasses, I’ll clean the blood off. Maybe get someone to get you a change of suit.” Bim handed them over, moving to hold his face in his hands before flinching away at the feeling of the blood on his face. Dr Iplier returned a moment later with the glasses and some wipes for the blood now drying on Bim’s hands and face. Silently, Bim cleaned himself up. Now he looked at the doctor with clear glasses, he could see the blood had already stained the doctors usually pristine white coat. They pulled up a chair and sat before him, and Bim averted his gaze. “Look, right now, I need to be honest. There’s no safe, easy way to be a cannibal.” Bim recoiled. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it wasn’t something so brutally honest. He supposed that was expected from the doctor. “And there’s no go to guide anyone can easily find for you. Understandably, it’s illegal.” Bim winced again, offering a weak nod. “But, well… Look, it is considered fucked up, but I’ll be truthful and say I don’t care. Everyone here is sick like that. To prove that point, well, I’m not really sure if this is what you need to hear but again, I’m being honest with you. I find it fascinating.” Bim stayed silent, which Dr Iplier matched for a moment, before speaking up again. “There’s no safe way to do it. But if you seriously find yourself in a situation where you physically can’t control yourself, I’d rather you’d come to me and sort out something as safe as possible rather than have you pull something like earlier. Alright?”  


“S-Sure.” Bim offered with an uncommitted shrug.  


“And the others aren’t going to protest. They get this sort of thing. I suppose they were just shocked that is was you.”  


“Yeah.”  


“I think there’s already a Google fetching you some clothes.”  


“Okay.” Another quiet response. Dr Iplier regarded him for another long moment, sitting defeated before him, coated in blood. There wasn’t anything to say.  


“Alright, well. I need to run some diagnostic tests. I’m not concerned, I’d have told you if you were dying.” Bim snorted despite his current situation. “But the longer it takes to get to Dark, the better right?”  


“Definitely.” Dr Iplier gave a slight smile, leaning back in his chair. A known fact that meant, ‘keep doing random shit till Dark sent someone to get Bim’. Something, in this moment, he needed desperately.

“You won’t believe what I saw a Jim doing the other day...”


End file.
